rock (15 page)

onyx

I don’t see Jace the next time I’m at Dad’s. He took an earlier flight to his new life, so it’s just me and Annie and Jace’s ghost at the dinner table with Dad and Lila.

I want onyx. Not to release the sorrow or grief.

But to become invisible.

To be a ghost alongside his.

part three: metamorphic

metamorphic: altered form.

amphibolite

Harder than limestone, heavier than granite. I feel like amphibolite.

The school year starts slowly, every day dragging longer than the last. Only the teachers are happy—my work is getting more elaborate and difficult. After my geology teacher submitted my essay to a lecturer he knows at Vic, Professor Donaldson wrote me a personal message informing me that she wants me to study in her department and, if I need it, she’ll write me a letter of recommendation to the dean of admissions. Not that she thinks I’ll need the help.

I won’t. Not only is schoolwork the only distraction I have and what I pour everything into—I won’t need the help because I don’t want to stay in Wellington.

I shuffle alongside Ernie and Bert and hide in the protection of their laughs and jokes.

“Dude,” Ernie says, punching my arm. We’re at our spot in the courtyard, the brick wall. “Can you drive us to Annie’s after class?”

I raise a brow. I know what he wants but I can’t find the energy to care. “Her flatmates aren’t interested.” At least, I don’t think they’re interested. I haven’t exactly been paying attention.

He and Bert exchange confused looks and shake their heads at each other. Ernie mouths, “What’s up with him?”

“He seriously needs to get laid,” Bert says, then clicks his fingers. “Got it. My cousin totally digs dudes too. He’ll be down for my birthday in a couple weeks.”

Ernie rubs his hands together. “Sold. Then maybe we’ll have the real Cooper back. Yeah,” he laughs. “Your cousin can pump some life into him.”

I’m drawn into the moment long enough to say, “Who says I wouldn’t be the one doing the pumping?”

“That’s our boy, though slightly more crass. I
like
it.”

I stare at the bench in the middle of the courtyard.

The bell rings, signaling our trek to class. The air feels different, thicker and stodgier.

After school, I find a large dark stone near the hatchback Jace left behind for me. When I pick it up, I don’t feel the weight of a thousand memories. I feel hollowness. Sympathetic hollowness, perhaps?

Bert and Ernie catch up. Arms sling around my waist and neck as they plead.

“We’ll be on our
best
behavior.” Ernie flutters his lashes. I’m about to say
no, not today
, when my pocket vibrates to life.

A gentle breeze carries the sharp taste of exhaust fumes mixed with Indian spices. Bert and Ernie’s sudden laughter rings in my ears.

The phone vibrates again, sending shivers racing up my arm as I take the call. “Jace!” A smile pulls my lips wide, and I laugh, twisting away from Ernie and Bert. The sun shines on my face and I breathe in the brightness. “How are you?”

His voice is croaky and he coughs. “Sorry. Autumn cold.”

“That sucks. You’re calling early this week.”

“Yeah, I’m going hiking this weekend so I wanted to say hey now.”

“Where are you going?”
And
with who?

“A couple of mates and I are doing the difficult trail at Kepler Track.”

“Mates?”

Jace knows me too well. “Cooper,” he says quietly. It’s a warning. It’s a plea. Please don’t go there. Let’s not talk about the bloody elephant in the room. Let’s pretend it doesn’t exist. Let’s pretend
All I Want Is You
never happened.

Pretending is the unspoken rule of our weekly chats. Pretending is a different version of the duel we began on opposite sides of the street waiting for the bus. This time he’s on the South Island, I’m on the North, and we are masters at pretending.

He pretends not to care about my love life, and I pretend not to care about his.

“What are you doing this weekend?” His play is shrewder.

Walking barefoot across the beach collecting paua shells for you and stones for me.
“Nothing.”

“Hey, I’m eighteen now. Want me to send you my driver’s license? I can claim I lost it and get a new one.”

“You want me to sneak into gay bars in hopes of getting lucky?”

Jace coughs again. “No.” His voice cracks. “I just want you to have fun.”

“I’d never get away with your ID. We look nothing alike.”

“It’s not healthy.” Long pause. “Doing nothing.”

So some rules are okay to break but not others?

He changes the subject, “How’s the hatchback doing?”

“The only thing around here running smoothly.”

“Fuck.”

I curse myself for my lack of subtlety. “How’s your music coming along?”

“Doesn’t sound the same as it does at home. The pieces are more complicated but I’m pulling through. Getting better.”

“Maybe you can play me something when you come home for the winter holidays?”

He coughs but doesn’t answer. Voices call his name in the background. “Look,” he says. “I gotta go. I’ll call next week, okay?”

“Yeah, okay. Have a good hike.”

“Do something this weekend, Cooper. Please?”

I glance over my shoulder at Ernie and Bert. “Promise.”

When he hangs up, I hold the phone for a long moment before facing the boys. “All right,” I tell them, jingling the keys in my bag. “Let’s go see Annie.”

* * *

Annie’s flat looks as though a bomb exploded in it. Crusty dishes are piled in the sink, heaps of clothing are thrown all over the floor, empty wine bottles give the air a sour bite, and the bathroom walls are edged with mold.

I decide to wait rather than use the bathroom.

“I thought girls were meant to be the clean ones,” I say as she clears a space on the couch for us.

Annie shrugs. “There’s only so many times you can bitch at your flatmates to clean up before it gets awkward.”

I shake my head. “No wonder you’re coming to Mum’s for dinner more and more.”

Ernie and Bert lounge in the mess like it’s their throne. “Couple of beers, and we’re set.”

“Someone say beer?” One of Annie’s flatmates walks in with a six-pack in one hand, and a bunch of shopping bags in the other.

Bert stares at the door like it’s magical. “Couple of girls, and we’re super set.”

The girls hit it off with Bert and Ernie while I zone out of the conversation and think about Jace. My sister digs her fingernails in my arm and drags me to her room, which is surprisingly much cleaner than the rest of the house. We sit on the wide windowsill overlooking a weedy garden. “What’s up, Coop?”

“Nothing. I’m . . . fine.” Before she pushes further I ask about her. “How’d your date go with what’s-his-name?”

She groans. “Steve. The one night wonder.” A shrug. “Never do that again. Worst walk of shame ever. I banged into Darren looking like a prostitute.” She blushes. “He had to know. All I wanted was to slink home and hide.”

“Sorry.”

“Yeah. But of course the one that got away will catch me at my worst.”

We’re quiet but Ernie and Bert are laughing in the background.

Annie pinches my arm. “You at Mum’s this week?”

I shake my head. “Dad’s. You coming for dinner this weekend?” It makes it easier when she comes, and I suspect that’s why she makes more of an effort.

“I mean, I wasn’t planning to. Tomorrow I’m watching this theatre production Chrissy is in. And I have group-project meeting on Sunday. But I don’t have to see the play. Sure. I’ll come out—”

“No, don’t.” I put on an extra cheery smile that tastes like cardboard. “I’m good. Next week, maybe.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, course.”

“Invite your friends around. You guys could have a slumber party.”

I haven’t had Bert and Ernie sleep over since that night with Jace. I’m afraid if I do, all I’ll remember is touching Jace the first time. Willing him to look at me.

Just a jerk off?

What else would it be?

“Yeah, they’re busy. But I have a test to study for.”

“You study harder than anyone I’ve met at university. You know where you’re going next year?”

“Otago.”

Dunedin.

Jace.

Do you care?

No. And I’ll convince him not to either.

And the rest of the world if I have to.

Bert and Ernie are having a great time, so I leave them to it. They can catch a taxi home. They’re too high to care I’m ditching them, anyway.

I drive the hatchback around the bays, driving and driving, until the sun finally sets.

“Cooper,” Dad says when I finally get in the door. He and Lila are dressed up. “We were about to head out to dinner. Do you want to join us?”

“Nah, I’m good. I’ll just hang here.”

Lila unclips her earrings. “We don’t need to go out. We’ll hang with you.”

Dad exchanges a look with her, and toes off his shoes. “Ordering in it is.”

Despite their efforts to make the big house seem less empty and less quiet, it makes it worse. There should be more voices, more spark in the air.

I eat a few slices of pizza, fake a few yawns, and head upstairs.

The gaming room is dark, the piano sitting untouched for months. I sit on the stool and let the chill creep over me. If I close my eyes, I hear his song and his ghost settles around me as if pulling me into his arms.

I scrub my face and laugh at myself.

Then I go to bed. His bed.

greywacke

A week later when I’m at Mum’s, I get mail from Jace. A greywacke stone that’s broken on one side, and a short note.

From the Kepler Track. (The trail is beautiful.) This stone made sleeping impossible. It kept digging into my back, so I snuck out of the tent in the middle of the night, lifted the pegs, and pulled it out. Still couldn’t sleep, though. After that, all I could think about was
rocks
.

I smile, and suddenly I’m
me
again.

We’re apart but nothing has to change. This is just a test we’ll pass with flying colors.

I hole myself up in my room, lie on the bed facing my toolboxes, and phone him.

It’s so easy. He tells me about all the crazy people he’s meeting in Dunedin and how I would love it down there.

He laughs. I laugh.

I make him take me to his dorm room and play something on his new piano. He asks me if he should sing, and I catch my breath.

He plays, and even through the phone it’s beautiful.

We talk for over an hour. I never want this to end but my phone is beeping with low battery. Jace laughs again and tells me to have a good night.

I hang up, clutch the phone to my chest and bite my lip—

“Who was that?” I leap to my feet. Mum is leaning against the doorframe; the door mustn’t have been closed properly. “Your boyfriend?”

I splutter. “Wh—what makes you think that?”

“You sound happy. Head over heels. I haven’t heard you this animated in months.”

I slip the phone in my pocket. “Dinner ready?”

“It
was
your boyfriend then? When do I get to meet him?”

Dread and nausea wash over me, and I finally understand why Jace has distanced himself.

“It was just a friend,” I tell her.
Would you hate me if you knew I was in love with my maybe brother?
“Just a friend.”

“Oh, unrequited, is it? That’s a hard one but you have to hold out for someone special. Someone who wants you as much as you want him; someone who’ll be proud to call you his boyfriend.”

We have a roasted-chicken dinner, and Annie comes too. Paul, sitting opposite from Mum, opens a bottle of white wine and pours us each a glass, mine slighter than the rest but I don’t care for alcohol anyway.

“What’s this for?” Annie asks, glancing between Mum and Paul. Annie silently asks me with her facial expressions what this is all about.

I shake my head.

Mum stands up. “Good news,” she says, smiling at Paul. “We’re moving in together.”